


i lost my internet connection and wrote this out of boredom

by UWORU



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UWORU/pseuds/UWORU
Summary: woooo poggers
Kudos: 1





	i lost my internet connection and wrote this out of boredom

I don't know where I went wrong.

There's always tomorrow, there's always another day to fix things. To change what I do, to be enough for those around me.

There was always tomorrow, and now I don't know if I can continue like this anymore. Things would be better if I never woke up, if I was never born to begin with.

The water washed away any traces of pain, the streaks of blood flowing through dissolving along with my own memory of someone who once lived. As if nothing had taken place, leaving the bank of the river undisturbed. She couldn't even stare back at me, for the face I recognised before had become victim to the end of gleaming hatred.

I held onto her hand and cried. Even though I knew I would receive no returning gesture.

Years passed, life went on. I had no say, I was not meant to rest. Back then, too, I realised that the spinning needle beyond my conscious would one day stop and point right to me.

I couldn't sleep well at night when I was alone. My ears rang with the echoes of desperation, rebounding back into a small space surrounded by a nothingness that wouldn't let me breathe.  
The fires of hell would brush against my skin, hands of coarse rope clinging onto me for dear life, begging me, asking me why I couldn't save them.

I ran from them, pulled away by that which drove its code of conduct into my mind, redirecting my every sense into focusing on itself.  
I was not saved from those who had failed before me, I was a puppet under the strings that held unto the blades of their guillotines.

Perhaps this was karma, retribution for what I've done. Repentence for treating happiness like a monarchal right I deserved when I lived to silence the masses who defied my makers. To think my desires were a god-given necessity that belonged to me alone, and that I am not the only one who thought this way.

In hindsight, all of this was a childish mistake. Unrectified perceptions of what can be called yours or mine, and the lack of a voice against empty promises and delusional lies.

The blame for our misery falls on me. If only I tried harder, if I didn't ignore the chances I was granted to stop everything before it got worse.

If I'd learnt to say no. If I'd learnt to say something, anything, that I had doubts, that I didn't trust the words you consoled me with all these years.

They said the most beautiful flowers in a garden are always picked first, and I feared every day not for myself but for you. But I believed in your strength, that you could keep yourself safe when everyone else around me would, without doubt, disappear.

Even my own family was not safe, not even the first person to teach me what it felt like to be loved and respected. I wonder if you were ignorant or simply selfish. I wonder if that would change anything in the end.

Reality can be painful, it all gets overwhelming sometimes. I think we should just give up here, there's no future for us that we'd be satisfied with. The look in your eyes tells me you disagree, too bad you're already gone.

Huh. Now that I think of it, you, too disappeared a long, long time ago. What was left behind is an imposter, something that deceived us all with the audacity to use your body.

I should be angry, but I can't bring myself to feel anything. Maybe it's relief. That I can see again. It's all over now. We may not have won, but at least we won't lose.

With that knowledge, I don't feel so bad anymore. Lie and lie again, what does it matter? You did the same to me, so face the same judgement that I will.

It takes a lot of strength to hold my arms out, and even more to smile. But at least it's feasible, it's something I can actually do. It's the only thing I can do, and the only thing I want to do.

And even then, I'm such a coward to be blind to the truth I've already come to terms with. You may not be yourself, but I can still recognize it; the way you tense your shoulders, the way you don't let go. Maybe we really are meant for each other, made to finish what we started.

"Please," I barely heard it, and I would have had regrets if I didn't. Your voice was no longer in tune with the absolution you acted with. Wavering and soft, as if fighting a losing battle in my embrace. It sounded of remorse for sins you didn't commit.

My senses falter and the pain is dull. I can't feel it over the overwhelming relief.

"Forgive me." You've returned at last.


End file.
